The Chronicles Of Nightbird (And Captain Oreo): A Series
by Meaghan McCormak
Summary: A series about four year old Blaine (with his secret identity) and his brother, Cooper, who always joins in on his games, sometimes with their partner, Kurt. With guest stars such as Sebastian, Rachel and others and many verses that will rant on about their imagination, cuteness and childish adventures.
1. Verse 1: Blaine-proof the House (Part 1)

"Whoa, earthquake!," the little boy exclaimed as he aggressively splashed the water surrounding him with his hands.

"Honey, Blaine, sweetheart, you're getting me all wet," the woman interrupted, she was starting to lose her patience with her baby son.

For some reason, Blaine didn't seem to get tired, ever. They were careful to never give him too much sugar, or any for that matter, and sometimes even letting him get away when he didn't want to nap, hoping that maybe that way he would be too tired at night and he wouldn't put much of a fight when it was time to give him a bath or tuck him in. But he never was.

"The citizens are in danger!" The four-year-old continued as he kept on moving the water around him. "Who's gonna save us now?," He asked to himself with a high-pitched voice. All of his bathtime toys were swimming around him, going with the flow. He took a very deep breath and grabbed a plastic action figure by the legs and lifted him over the water and foam. "I will!" He added with the deepest voice he could accomplish.

"Head back and eyes closed," the woman took advantage of the moment of silence and put one of her hands on the boy's back as he obeyed his mother.

"It's Nightbird! Yaaaay!" The high tone appeared once more while his mommy poured some water on his curly hair and rinsed the conditioner. "Do you think that if time stops, we would notice? Or maybe, if Nightbird sang too loud he could break the windows?"

"I don't know baby… maybe that could be one of his superpowers too," she smiled and lifted him to then place him out of the tub. She grabbed a towel and tried to dry him as fast as she could, but the boy wasn't cooperating. He wouldn't stop moving.

Blaine didn't seem to be paying any attention to his mother's answers. He didn't really care; he just had the urge to ask them. He felt that if he didn't ask his questions as soon as he came up with them, he would forget them at that would be it.

"But Mommy, what would happen if there was an accident in two places in the world at the same time? There's only one Nightbird, and he couldn't be in two places at the same time… or could he? I should ask Coop"

He didn't give the woman a chance to dress him before running away towards his big brother's room, his big dark curls still dripping wet.

"Coop!" the breathy voice behind him made Cooper look away from the TV and settle his stare on his very naked baby brother.

"Whoa buddy, I didn't think you'd be one of those exhibitionists" He laughed and muted the sound with his remote control.

"What's an _ebixhtionist_?" he cocked his head to the side as the carpet beneath him darkened with the strawberry scented drops.

"Nevermind," he muttered quietly with a smile, not sure if he would be sermoned by his parents for telling his brother the meaning, choosing to avoid it just in case.

"OH!" The other boy remembered in a split second, and before continuing he made sure no one but them was around. "I wanted to ask you if there was an accident in two places at the same time I could be both places at the same time too or I would have to choose between one," he whispered dramatically, covering the side of his mouth with his hand.

"I don't know, guess you'll have to wait until that happens and see if Nightbird has as many awesome superpowers as I think," Cooper challenged the hazel-eyed boy.

"Of course I do!" Blaine crossed his arms across his chest and frowned. "Nightbird is the _mit_… _itie_…" the kid sighted heavily and opened his arms widely. "_Timiest_ super hero of all times!"

"Yeah, that's true, he _is_ the tiniest," he chuckled.

"I'm not tiny!" he screamed. "_You're_ tiny," he pouted, frowning at his older, amused brother.

"I think the word you're looking for is _mightiest_, sweetie," his mother entered the room, gentle tiredness in her face, big, white towel in her hands. Blaine held his breath with wide eyes with alert. "C'mere, Blaine, honey," she requested quietly, sitting his son on the bed, not quite paying attention to the relieved sigh he exhaled.

"Today, when I helped mom with the groceries at the supermarket," he started, calmly yet vigorously escaping from his mother's grasp, looking for Coop's eyes. "She bought me a new squirt gun," he finished, changing the subject completely as his mother finished drying him off and pulling his underwear up.

"That is so cool, bud," Cooper softly tickled his brother's tummy and received a laugh and a squirm in response.

"It's in my bedroom, I'll show you!" he exclaimed with big, eager eyes.

The onesie was still halfway up when Blaine decided to slip from his mother and brother's hands to run awkwardly on his too separated legs towards his bedroom. Just when he was getting to the door marked "Blaine" with bright light blue wooden letters, the little boy flew head first into the carpeted floor, a little bit too close to his mother's precious glass coffee table.

It was one of those moments again.

Those moments where Blaine would check how bad the fall had been based on the looks the people around him were wearing on their faces, and then either start running again or bawling his eyes out.

His eyes were already wet as he pulled himself from the floor slowly and tentatively turned to his Mom and brother.

"Weren't you gonna show me something, Blainers?" Cooper reacted fast. He didn't want to handle with this little brother's crying right now.

"Yes!" The curly haired boy smiled again and rushed himself into the bedroom, now wearing nothing but his underwear. He had already forgotten the burning feel growing in his forehead.

"He almost hit himself with the little _glass_ table, Coop," his mother commented with fierce concern as soon as Blaine was out of the picture.

"I guess we're gonna have to Blaine-proof the house," he smiled playfully at his mom before following his little brother and picking the dinosaur printed onesie up from the floor.

* * *

Ooooookay, so this is the first verse of a series we're sort of writing with my best friend (her tumblr is iwasntinvited. tumblr .shit and whatnot).

The idea is to write a series about toddler, four year old Blaine (which is in fact, the same Blaine we see on the show) with the company of Cooper and some guest stars, such as -of course- Kurt, Rachel, Puck and even Sebastian.

We'll also get to see a lot of Nightbird and his new sidekick, uuuuuuh, we'll see who that is later.

Hope you like it and tada! (We have like twenty three ideas already and we're very excited for this, hope you are too because who doesn't like tiny Blaine being all sorts of adorable? Gee..)

3


	2. Verse 1: Blaine-proof the House (Part 2)

"What' cha doing?" Blaine asked from the sofa as he watched his mother and brother replace the rectangle glass table in the living room for a rounded wooden one.

"Taking precautions for you not to kill yourself," the annoyance in Cooper's tired voice was clear.

"_Cooper_," their mother reprimanded him sharply. "Just making sure there aren't any dangerous things for you to hurt yourself with in the house, honey," she continued in a gentler, more subtle way.

Blaine frowned at the idea of his mother considering _anything _dangerous for Blaine. He was Nightbird, for Batman's sake's! Nothing in the world was dangerous for Nightbird. But just when he opened his mouth to talk, he remembered the only two people who knew about his secret identity were his brother and himself; so he gave his Mommy a break, just for once.

"Okay, I'm done," the eldest boy exhaled as he threw himself on a chair next to the new table. "We have been moving stuff around the house all day long. This is not how I expected to spend my Saturday."

"But you are the most darling son and you helped your mother when she needed it the most," Mom established as she laid a hand on Cooper's shoulder and pressed a gentle, loving kiss on his hair. "And the most darling brother too, because you're doing this for him," she raised her eyebrows and glanced gratefully at the sofa.

"C'mere, Blainers," the blue-eyed brother sighed as he patted his own thighs.

Mom left the room with a satisfied grin on her face as the small one timidly toddled towards his sibling.

"Are you angry at me?" he finally let out the words that had been bubbling inside him since Cooper started ranting.

"What? No!" He laughed warmly and lifted him up to sit him on his lap, face to face. "I'm just tired. I know we had plans to… you know…" he looked around suspiciously and leaned forward. "Save the word."

Blaine nodded vigorously without saying anything, eyes open wide and lips pressed tightly together. If they didn't talk much about it, nobody would ever listen.

"But I'm really worn-out, mind if we leave that for tomorrow? We can watch a movie instead," he hinted with a growing grin.

The kindergartener nodded once more, this time with a smile on his face and much more relaxed than before. "But you choose, it's your reward for your work today."

"Okay, then we shall watch… Small Soldiers?" A smirk appeared on his face. That movie was his guilty pleasure, since it was a children's one but he seemed to enjoy it as much as his baby brother.

"There will be no mercy!" Blaine quoted with excitement as he jumped off his brother's lap and started running around the room, pretending to be part of the Commando Elite.

* * *

"If we hide, we will still lose. No more hiding." Cooper couldn't help mouthing the dialogue, completely focused on the screen. It wasn't until then, when he looked down and realized that his little brother had passed out against him. Probably he had fallen asleep long ago, but he was just too into Small Soldiers to notice.

He picked up the remote control and paused the movie. He had watched it a hundred times before and probably would watch it a hundred more, so he didn't mind missing the ending this time.

It was already dark outside, but most probably not late enough since their mother hadn't called them to dinner yet. Coop took Blaine in his arms carefully not to wake him up and walked up the stairs towards his brother's bedroom. He was mostly sure both his parents would appreciate him sleeping early and not having to go through the long routine of putting the boy to sleep.

Cooper had just finished changing the sleeping boy into his pajamas when he was surprised by a breathy, sleepy voice in the night, muffled by the pillow.

"How I end up in here?" He could see his brother rubbing his eyes with this little fists through the darkness. "We were watchin' Small Soldiers…"

"Yeah, but then you fell asleep and as soon as you did I realized it was like, 3 a.m." A little white lie that would make his brother happy for staying up so late and keep him from trying to wake up once more seemed more than fine.

"Really?" He seemed more than simply amazed. And sort of proud. "I stayed up until then?"

"Sure you did, so now you better drift off again because mom and dad are gonna kill us if they find out," he finished secretively as he tucked the boy in.

"Yeah, yeah…" Blaine closed his eyes, and in less than thirty seconds, he was out once more.

Cooper didn't leave the room right away, though. He sat right next to him and run his hand through his brother's soft curls. He loved that kid to death, and all the hard work in the world was completely worth it if it meant that his Blainers would be safe. How was he supposed to have fun or whatsoever without him? Or to spend his days at all, for that matter?

"I would die without you, bro," he whispered and pressed a kiss on his forehead. The toddler squirmed and hummed in his sleep, only to make the other boy smile.


	3. Verse 2: Playtime -The First Beast

The streets were empty, the dark, tall buildings towering over him; threateningly closing in on him. The wind whistled throughout the entire town, its chill insistently reaching even the most tucked corners of each and every house.

But he wasn't cold.

No, the cold didn't push through his skin and to his bones like it did with the rest of the citizens.

He squinted with caution ahead of him, scrutinizing his surroundings with the utmost silent, almost invisible. Even while not being one of his actual powers, he could wholly control the power of going unnoticed, _unseen_.

"Do you see it?" he heard the voice mutter somewhere close to him.

"No," he affirmed, his lips forming a line and the frown, scarce but still there, alert. "Not yet," he added under his breath. "Let's go," he turned to his sidekick, the black one-piece with the white stripe across his chest contrasting brightly against the dull tones of the downtown.

Captain Oreo's blue, electric eyes that were only visible because of the holes in his black mask were just as vigilantly attentive, darting to as many places as real, human time allowed.

"It should be coming any moment now," the tiny, serious voice of his counterpoint murmured, sensing through the familiar tingling sensation inside him, the ever so slightly tremor that got closer and closer.

The only two people that were on the street at that moment turned around and raised their heads –one of them, shocked, the other, unimpressed- so much that their necks were hurting after two seconds.

Only they didn't _have_ two seconds.

Just as the beast grumbled again, its claws were already fumbling ahead and covering just as much as it could reach, not with much control over its limbs. Which was just an advantage for them.

A smirk appeared on the face of Nightbird.

He started bolting and running towards the giant dinosaur, zigzagging to avoid the spastic movements of the red creature with its brown motes speckled all over its scaled back as it continued to screech low with hunger.

He bounced off the glass walls of the buildings, sprinting from side to side, dangerously approaching the beast's lime green, honeycomb hexed tummy. He was getting closer and closer, and he knew he could do this; he dodged the monster's titanic foot just as he was inches away from its textured skin, so real, so near. He extended his arm and _tickled the beast!_

He hared away from it, seeing the immense look of relief on Captain Oreo's face as he smiled to him, the beast's brutal, lamenting howl resounding across the city. He stopped on his track, smoke coming out of his heels.

Nightbird turned and nodded with a beam to his sidekick, this time bolting from building to building, higher and higher and then onto the dinosaur's elbow, leaping to its armpit when his partner flew in front of its azure snout to make a funny, mocking face, giving enough time for the swift, curly haired superhero to tickle the scales there.

He swung to the other side of the beast's massive side, but he had to grasp at its elbow, clutching and holding on tightly with a taken aback expression on his face.

"Oreo!" he bellowed with a now scared, worried countenance, watching his sidekick being thrown out of the way by the creature's claws. Nightbird glowered darkly and frowning profoundly at the beast, that was now looking at him, immediately regretting its action.

"Oops," it uttered with its loud, raspy hum, eyes wide with concern for its self well being.

If he was doing this, he was doing it _right_.

He dashed down the street, about five blocks down away from the beast, which was staring at its opponent, fiddling with its claws, its large, thorned tail surrounding his jointed legs, preparing for the worse.

He crouched like those guys he had seen on TV just about to run a marathon, the intense gaze on his eyes, hot sparks flying –literally- off of them.

He began to race, feeling the burning trail under his tiny feet as he ran to the living thing, never taking his eyes away from the terrified pair.

He bent his knees for a millisecond just before springing ahead and up and up towards the sky, lifting his arm in the air, tense and ready to strike and he was falling down and down, still gazing into those worried, orange eyes that were looking up at him, ruefully, just as he swayed his arm back for a stronger drive.

"_Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh_—"

"_Aaaaaaaaaaaah!_" he heard his brother cry next to him.

He lowered his arm, brave, defiant expression leaving his face and turned to look down at Cooper, clutching at his eye.

"Ouch! Blaine!" he whined, frowning and staring fixedly at him with one eye, the other one still beneath the heel of his hand.

Blaine's eyes flew wide open.

"Oh my god, Coop, I'm so sorry!" he hopped off from the table and ran up to his brother's side, throwing his head back enough to take a good look at his expression, measuring if he was mad or just overreacting as he tugged lightly at his black shirt and at a rather long piece of toilet paper wrapped around his waist.

"First that thing and now you," he said, rubbing the left side of his face, glaring down at his little brother. "I cannot believe it," he lamented under his breath.

"What were you doing there, anyway, I thought you were—" Blaine gasped as he spotted the wooden sword his sibling was clasping in his hand. "You wouldn't," he whispered loudly, walking backwards away from his brother.

"But it hit me!" he defended himself, incredulous.

"We have to talk about your attitude, Coop," Blaine deadpanned. "You can't hurt them," the tiny kid explained with a serious expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, but aren't we fighting off those terrible monsters?" his brother laid out, not believing his little brother.

"Yes, but we defeat and slay them in our ways, we're not the bad ones here, Coop," he shook his head, with condescending wisdom.

"But it hurt _me_," Cooper pressed victoriously, raising an eyebrow, satisfied with his _clearly_ valid argument.

"And I had him," Blaine retorted, never losing his patience towards his sidekick. "Next time, I'll just have a talk with Bob," he nodded with half dropped eyelids.

"_BOB?_" his brother asked, a tad too loud. "You call him Bob now?" he bent to put his face inches away from his brother's.

"Yes, and he's extremely nice, he's just playing the wrong part for him," he replied calmly. "It's not his fault," he lifted his chin as he turned and started to go around the room, gathering the clothes and objects that were lying on the floor.

His brother returned to his position, blank stare at the wall.

He exhaled as he dragged a hand down his face, flinching at the residual pain in his temple. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, fondly.

"I swear to god, this kid…"

* * *

_Bob, the ticklish and misunderstood._

We already have about 38 ideas for these and we're so happy and proud of them, Anderbros are awesome, and we even thought of one with Hunter that will involve spies and shit and... All kinds of awesome, so...

Hope you like these, they're also on tumblr and scarvesandcoffee. net if you rather read them there or want to get in touch with any of us.

Feedback is always, of course, more than appreciated :)

Loooots of love,

Ro and Brooklyn.


	4. Verse 3: Saturday Morning

Saturday mornings were lovely for Mr. Anderson. He would wake up reasonably early, while the house was still in complete silence in perfect peace, and enjoy his cup of coffee and that day's newspaper pleasantly in the kitchen. But this time, something was different. As he walked down the stairs he thought he could hear a loud, messy noise coming from the living room. Someone was already up and watching the TV.

"…just for you! In the house of Blue…"

The man chuckled and kept on walking, approaching the source of the music. His youngest son was singing along to the theme song of a show that, in Mr. Anderson's opinion, was a tad too childish, even for his four-year-old.

"Well, good morning little man, how are you up this early?" he commented, nearing the sofa, where the boy was sitting with his back to him.

His small body tensed to the shock of hearing his father behind him. He noticed how the soft building in his son's chest, the one he some nights watched and adored, at the sight of his little one falling asleep curled up close to him, fists close to his face, respiration becoming regular and quieter, had frozen. And he could totally, knowing his son like he did, see his brain working at full speed and realizing he had forgotten the possibility of someone else waking up and finding him there.

"What's wrong?" Dad insisted however, slightly frowning with concern. His son was _never _quiet.

The kid turned around quickly, barely, flashing his father a big, fake smile. There was something off, though; he had turned way too quickly and his smile was way too… _Oh_.

His father's expression changed in a matter of milliseconds.

"Blaine, did you find the Oreos?"

And that was it. Dad had seen right through him. He was certain he would be grounded for the rest of his days, confined to the darkness of his room, with the lonely company of his toys. The thought of never feeling the sunlight against his skin terrified him. He had to at least try to avoid telling the truth.

"No,I didn't," he muttered.

"_Blaine_," his father repeated sternly. "Did you find the Oreos?"

He knew this meant serious business. Blaine was thoughtful and pouting.

"No, _you_ found the Oreos," maybe he'd be able to trick his father and confuse him.

"I'm going to give you one last chance, okay, Blaine?" he raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms across his chest. No son of his would be dishonest, let alone with him. "Now tell me, _did you find the_-"

"_OH MY GOD YES I DID, OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY DADDY, I REALLY AM,_" the child couldn't help himself anymore and sprinted unsteadily, hugging his leg. Mr. Anderson jumped with surprise; it was amazing how fast the sugar kicked in when it came to the tot. Blaine took a very deep breath, desperate for air, and continued while his eyes filled with tears. He hated feeling guilty. "_I REALLY DIDN'T MEAN TO, IT WAS STRONGER THAN ME, I-_"

He was overly surprised when Dad interrupted him by bending back a bit and letting a laugh out, arms still over his chest.

"You're such an unusual little man," he said in between chuckles. "Come with me," he suggested while releasing himself from the boy's grip in his legs and taking him in his arms instead.

Blaine didn't hesitate, despite how puzzled he was feeling at that very moment. Not being able to gather enough courage to look up, he was carried into the kitchen.

"You know, there's a reason we hide those Oreos," his laughter was controlled now, but not his good humor. "And I think you know why."

The boy nodded slowly and looked at him through his eyelashes. "Because the amount of sugar that they have gets me all sorts of excited and hyper and I already have enough energy to race around the world two times in a row," he repeated by heart his mother's words.

"That's exactly why. Now, don't worry, this time we'll let it pass; but remember that Mom and I do this just because we want what's best for you, alright Blaine?"

"Alright daddy," he agreed with a glowing, still somewhat timid beam on his face. "But I have a question…" He continued, now looking as confused as before.

"Tell me,"

"How did you realize?" he was amazed by how easily the man saw through him.

"Well, mainly because you have black crumbs all over your face," he smiled and crouched, so their faces were right before the shiny oven door.

The child frowned, looked at himself, and every little ounce of confusion disappeared. Somehow, he had managed to get himself all dirty with Oreo crumbs not only around his mouth, but also next to his nose. And under his eye. And right next to his ear.

Dad sat him on the counter, took a damp dish towel and gently rubbed all along Blaine's face with it. "It beats me how you were able to get this filthy."

Blainey shrugged, and as soon as his father took the dish towel away from him, he could spot an innocent half-smile growing on his lips.

"Do you want to watch some more TV? At least until Mom and Cooper are up, and then we can go have lunch at Breadstix," he asked his son, tossing the dish towel to the side and still hoping to enjoy his Saturday morning newspaper and coffee.

"Actually, I have a better idea…"

* * *

"I don't think we should have let him eat that cupcake," Mom said to Dad, looking at how her youngest son was running around the backyard, pretending to fly, and making his own sound effects.

"_WOOOOOOOOOOOOOSHH_," Blaine approached to them, now running in circles around them. "Look, I'm just like Aladdin! Only without the flying carpet!" he stopped dead in his tracks and turned to his parents with eyes popping out of their sockets. "Can we buy one of those?"

"You didn't really have a choice, don't be so hard on yourselves," Cooper was lying next to them, eating an apple on the white and red checkered picnic blanket as his baby brother ran away once more, not even waiting for an answer. "His cuteness makes him very manipulative. Otherwise, we wouldn't have had this picnic in the first place."


	5. Verse 4: Bathroom for two

"That's it!" Cooper yelled while opening the door of the bathroom he shared with his little brother. His hair was dripping wet and he was holding a white towel around his waist. "That's it, I can't do this anymore."

Blaine was watching some cartoons in the living room, and decided to curl himself in a little ball as soon as he heard the yelling upstairs. His brother walked right next to him, but he didn't seem to notice the hiding kid.

"I can't share that small bathroom with Blaine anymore; I almost slipped with one of his damn toys! It's a mess! It's a mess and it smells like strawberry and soap!" He sounded furious.

"Cooper, relax, please," Mom pleaded. If they were going to have this discussion, it was better if Blaine didn't listen. She knew he would be trying to catch a glimpse from behind his long, dark eyelashes from the couch in the room next door.

"No, I won't relax. It's not only that, have you seen my hair?" He asked as he rushed himself to end up standing right in front of her and lowered his head. "Feel it, come on. Smell it. The boy likes to mix up shampoos and conditioners and soaps and every little thing that's in there. He's ruined my products!"

The woman couldn't help but snort. She knew her son was very fond of his hair, but that was just plain adorable.

"Don't laugh, woman! This is serious business!" His eyes almost popped out of his orbits. "I dare you to share your own bathroom with him for one week, only one week and you'll see what hell it is!"

"_Cooper_," she sounded much more serious now. "Do not disrespect me. Or your brother. Relax."

The semi-naked boy took a deep breath and sat on the table beside him. He stayed silent, waiting for his mother to continue.

"I know it's not fun, but there are only two baths in this house and you have to share one with your brother the same way your father and I share the other one."

"But I bet dad flushes the toilet, mom, I hate this," he breathed out, now sounding much more exhausted than angry. "It sucks. I love him, but I need some sort of safety feeling that my things aren't being wrecked. I want to take a shower without having to worry about whether or not I'm washing my hair with the right stuff, or even tripping and beheading myself."

Mom sighed and cupped her son's face between her hands. Her gentle eyes, blue, just as Cooper's, laid on his. "It's part of having a wonderful little brother like your own. It's like they say in _Singin' in the Rain_, you have to take the little heartaches that go with it," she smiled lovingly and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Now go dry yourself because you'll catch something."

Coop tried to smile back and came out as a sad half smile. He went back upstairs, again ignoring his little brother hiding behind the couch.

Blaine wouldn't let this happen. It was his fault that his brother was feeling blue and angry. He had to change it as fast as possible.

As soon as he heard the other boy's bedroom door closing, he jumped off the sofa and made his way upstairs at a Nightbird-worthy speed.

Cooper had been right. The small bathroom was a mess indeed. He placed his fists on his hips and frowned deeply, pursing his lips; it was the expression of a man whose mind was working at full speed; it was the face he put on when he was about to get some serious work done.

He decided to start with picking up all of his bath-time toys and saving them in a basket under the sink. It was surprising that even in such a small bathroom he could manage to spill such a big amount of toys. There were action figures, toy musical instruments and wind up toys in the bathtub; the blocks with the letters were in the bidet, the ones with the numbers under the sink; the rubber duck was someway perched on the lampshade and there was even a dollhouse behind the toilet.

Then, he proceeded to divide his own strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner from every hair product that belonged to Coop. He wouldn't touch those from that moment on anymore. He continued to organize the sink, making sure he cleaned thoroughly the smiley face he had drawn with the toothpaste on the side of it that same morning.

After not so many minutes, he looked around, pretty pleased with the results. It now looked almost like a normal bathroom. He wasn't sure how much time he had left until Cooper would need the bathroom again. He usually came back after showering to fix his hair with a better mirror once it was dry.

But there was only one more thing left to do.

_The flush button._

The reason he never, ever, ever flushed was because… Well, because it was too high on the wall for him, he had to admit that. He had to tippytoe on top of the toilet in order to reach that damn button. But he had to do it, he had to; for his beloved sidekick.

Blaine checked the closed lid before starting to climb the toilet. This was a piece of cake for someone like him, someone like Nightbird. He climbed things all the time, he had all sorts of experience with the furniture in his house. He held his ground and pressed. The sound was somewhat comforting. He could get used to this. The boy turned around and jumped back on the ground, almost losing balance once he hit the cool, light blue tiles.

He took a proud glimpse around. The place looked impeccable. He was sure that all of Cooper's questioning feelings about sharing the bathroom with him would be changed in a minute as soon as he saw what he had accomplished, what he was capable of.

Just as if on cue, his brother appeared without even realizing Blaine was there and as soon as he walked in the look of restrained annoyance he had on his face changed as if hit by a train, replaced with one of sheer puzzlement.

"What the…" he asked aloud to himself, looking around. When he spotted his baby brother standing behind the door with those expectant, confident, hopeful eyes of his that characterized him so much, all his features dropped, glowing with sadness.

Blaine frowned, scared. He didn't understand, wasn't this what he wanted?

"Blaine," his brother sighed ruefully. He looked so regretful. And the fact that his little boy wasn't speaking and was just instead there, staring at him made it so much worse. "I…" he uttered again, not quite knowing what to say. "I don't know what to—Did you do this?" he asked, letting out the smallest of laughs, still amazed.

His brother's hazed squint immediately morphed into a beam, eyes crinkling up as he nodded, proudly.

"Was it because of something you heard me say?" Coop continued. Blaine's lips pursed, but he didn't look discouraged.

"Well…" he hummed, twisting his lips. His older brother didn't let him finish, swooping forward instead and lifting him.

"You, sir, are the best brother ever," he said with a huge grin, standing in front of the mirror and grabbing Blaine so that they both could see their reflection, his tiny hands resting on Coop's chest, his small butt on his forearm. They looked at each other, smiles growing.

Cooper kissed his cheek loudly, Blaine leaning in and smiling sideways, shutting his eyes.

"Love you, Coop," he said, throwing his arms around his brother's neck, rubbing his face against the side of Coop's.

The older brother's chest swelled, heart wrenching. He was positive his brother was indeed, the best baby brother ever. "Love you too, bud," he said back, clutching his back closely. "Now pip, pip, go to your room 'cause I gotta get ready," he said, putting him down and watching his brother go, both smiling.

"Nightbird to the rescue," he muttered as he left the bathroom with a satisfied grin on his face.


	6. Verse 5: Promise You'll Be Safe

It was one of those lazy Sunday afternoons in which everything Cooper wanted to do was lay in bed alone and in peace, listening to his music or simply watching one of his favorite TV shows.

Which was what he was doing at the moment, no guilt or shame produced from the pictures on the screen. After all, who didn't love Sabrina?

"Oh, _Salem_," he muttered after successfully catching his breath, still chuckling. He heard, though, the tiny, loud and unstoppable steps running up the stairs long before they even came. The door slammed open, bounced on the wall and came back to smack the small boy flat on his breathlessly excited, openly beaming–and clearly unaware- face, only to close again in less than five seconds altogether.

"Little bro?" the oldest sibling called after a beat, hesitating between laughing his head off and running to check on his brother, still on the other side of the door.

The door creaked slowly and carefully this time, enthusiasm drained out of the young boy's body and now replaced with embarrassment.

"You okay, there?" Cooper asked slowly, smirking with amusement, carefully eyeing his baby brother for any signs of his next action. It was when he saw the tears definitely forming in his eyes that he cocked his head to the side with an even bigger smile and opened his arms. "Oh, buddy, come here," he cooed, as Blaine followed him, shuffling to his bed and defenselessly crawling up to him. He hugged his knees, trying to hide his face between them. Coop put an arm around him. "Are you okay?"

Blaine looked up at him with his wet, glossy eyes and shook his head.

"You have too much energy for your own good, lil' bro," Coop said, stroking his hair. "Anything I can do to help you?"

At this, the round, pained face lit up, remembering something and completely forgetting about the incident.

"Yes, Coop, you gotta dress up, Coop!" he said, far too eager again, kneeling on the bed, right in front of his brother, who as not intently staring at him.

"Because my embarrassment always makes you feel better?" he guessed.

"No, because we're having a… tea party," he said, quieting down and dropping again on the bed, timidness washing over again, gaze unfocused.

"What's the matter?" Cooper asked, frowning. What was with the roller coaster of emotions that was his little brother today?

"I'm just… nervous," he admitted, distractedly looking at the palms of his hands, all too small to be real.

"Why?" he encouraged patiently.

There a moment of silence before Blaine replied. "It's still one of Kurt's first times coming home and… I'm just nervous," he clarified, his little shoulders slumping.

"But you guys are friends already, because of what you tell me, at least," Cooper offered. "Right? I mean, it's not like you have to impress him or anything."

"He makes me nervous," he muttered and at first Cooper frowned again, confused and wary. "Whenever I'm with him my heart just starts beating really fast," he finished, feeling his pulse race at the mere thought of his best friend.

Cooper's stance relaxed visibly, studying his brother. Hazel, honey eyes glanced up through thick, dark eyelashes, still shy and unsure. His brother poked his arm smugly, making a little smile tug at the corner of Blaine's mouth.

"Okay then, so I'm assuming if I'm there you won't feel as nervous?" he asked, receiving multiple nods from Blaine. "Great. What are you dressing up as, Rudolph the rednosed reindeer?" he said, pinching the tip of his brother's nose, whose eyes opened wide, startled. As Cooper laughed, he swatted his hand away, frowning.

"No, but I do know who you're dressing up as," he squinted with a harmless, tiny grin.

* * *

"Okay, I did _not_ sign up for this," Cooper said, coming out of the bathroom.

He looked around. The upper floor was entirely deserted; his brother was probably changing in his bedroom, choosing from his entirely cool disguises for the tea party.

He strode up to the door and pounced on it with his fist. It opened and many inches below, Blaine's little, innocent face was looking up at him. He smiled.

"You look great," he approved.

"Blaine, this is not even a real character in the Toy Story movies," he said, clenching his jaw. "It's two characters mashed up together. Two very _female_ characters," he lowered his voice grudgingly.

"But… Bo Peep and Mrs. Nesbit…" he insisted, eyes widening and gleaming.

"Blaine, please, let me change out of this," Cooper pleaded, tipping the plastic light blue hat with the daisy stuck to it –_why would anyone even think of selling those?_ "Don't you have something else?" He tugged at the, slightly too short for him, pink, frilly apron.

His brother pouted but dragged his feet back to his closet, leaving Cooper standing right next to the door, touching the big, puffy skirt that was supposed to be the bottom of Bo Peep's dress.

Just then, the bell rang and Blaine's head shot right up and, just like in cartoons, he ran past Cooper so fast that not only he didn't see him, but the dress he was wearing fluttered with the little wind Blaine had left as a trail, behind him.

"Hurry, Coop!" the younger brother rushed him to go downstairs as fast as possible and get the door, since it was locked with the key. As he twisted the knob and opened the door towards him, Blaine pushed himself outside, slipping swiftly, so he was the first thing Kurt would see.

"Kurt!" he greeted giddily, his chest swelling. The other boy mumbled back a nervous "Hi," and with a sweet, luminous smile. He took a glance at Coop before opening his eyes as plates and swallowing.

Cooper had to sigh to restrain himself from running back in and take the costume off. He was fully aware he was a fifteen year old boy wearing a pink, frilly dress, an apron with a big heart stamped in the middle, a golden and curled wig, a bright blue hat with a flower and holding something that looked like a giant candy cane. Standing with the front door open.

He noticed a big, beefy, bald man with a baseball cap standing at the bottom of the entrance stairs -he was pretty sure he had met him before, and identified him as Kurt's dad- eyeing him curiously, finding it hard to tear his eyes away from Cooper.

"Why is your brother wearing a dress?" the slim, deep blue-eyed boy asked, completely confused with the image he was contemplating.

"We're having a costume tea party," Blaine sounded excited, since he knew tea parties were Kurt's favorite, along with dressing-up. It was the perfect combination of games.

"Oh," Kurt cooed, eyes growing even wider and closing his mouth.

"What?" It instantly hit him that maybe he hadn't been so right. Maybe Kurt didn't like costume tea parties at all. He had to be the worst friend ever that ever was in the history of the life.

"I… I forgot we were having one," the other boy admitted, timidly hiding his hands behind his back and lowering his sight as he stepped back. "I didn't bring a costume," he whispered.

"That's okay, I can lend you one," all his worries had disappeared. He was lucky he had enough costumes to dress up all of his classmates.

"Really?" Kurt's hopes rose again, along with his eyes and eyebrows, still feeling slightly little.

"Sure," Blaine took the child's hand and pulled him up the stairs.

"He- the boy made me wear it. I have nothing to do with this," Cooper shrugged, deadpan, trying to explain himself to Kurt's father. He babbled, opening and closing his mouth a couple more of times before waving off and finally hiding inside.

Upstairs, Blaine walked towards what he liked to refer to as the _Funtime Captain Blaine's Hidden Wonderful Treasure Chest_ –actually he had called it that just once, but he had felt so proud of the term that, from time to time, he boasted about it. But it was too long to call it that, so most of the times he simply called it 'the trunk'. He lifted the lid, starting to rummage through all the different disguises, masks, hats, a scepter when the tip of his fingers brushed a well-known cloth.

He pulled slowly and carefully, trying to conceal it from Kurt's sight. He heard his brother walking in the room behind them, but nobody said a word.

He stroked the blue and black fabric, slipping through his fingers, smooth and soft, familiar.

"Cooper, could you leave us for a second?" Blaine asked quietly, still not taking his eyes from his Nightbird suit.

His brother stared at him, barely trying to hide his glower. "Thanks," the younger one said, without waiting for an answer.

He knew it was no use to put up a fight or even ask for permission to wear another costume again.

He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

He let his back slide down the wall until his butt hit the floor, the light pink cane resting across his lap.

"What…" he looked up to find his mother staring at him, wide eyed. Cooper glowered at her with as much dignity as possibly, considering he was wearing a goldilocks-worthy wig.

"Your son," he explained under his breath, nailing his eyes back to the wall ahead of him again, as though he was very concentrated on a particular spot.

"Oh my god," his mother laughed, throwing her head back and walking over him, carefully avoiding to step on Cooper's dress.

* * *

"Blaine, are you okay?" Kurt asked. He was scared; his friend looked very nervous and was very silent.

"Kurt…" He exhaled seriously, trying to introduce the gravity of what he was about to say to him. "There's something you need to know."

The blue-eyed boy lowered his head, keeping his sight focused on Blaine. According to the boy's tone, he wasn't sure he was prepared for whatever his best friend had to say. "Yes?"

The smaller kid sighed and avoided his gaze dramatically. "But you gotta promise to keep the secret," Blaine waited for an answer, but nothing escaped Kurt's mouth. "Do you promise?" He insisted with urgency.

"Yes, yes, of course, I promise," Kurt replied hurriedly, aching to know his friend's secret.

The smaller boy scrutinized his face, looking for any hint of hesitance or disloyalty. He was still feeling unsure, on the fence about revealing such a big, hidden side of his life, but he realized he trusted Kurt as much as he trusted Coop.

So he mustered all his strength, plucked up all the courage in his tiny body and forced out those two words that, other than Coop, only his friend would listen to; _"I'm Nightbird."_

Kurt stared at him with eyes still wide, as his friend stood there, breathless and panting quietly. He blinked.

"_Who?_" he swallowed, voice painted with caution and slightly apprehended.

"Nightbird, Kurt," he crossed his arms, pain in his tone and closed eyes. "I save the world from the most vile and terrible villains. You're the only one who knows my true identity, so…" he left the sentence unfinished. He was aware that Kurt knowing meant two things; that he knew about him more than anybody else in the world, but also, that he was in great danger.

"What about your parents? And Coop?" Kurt shook his head, frowning. If Blaine was in such significant jeopardy, risking his neck to save the lives of strangers all over the world, someone ought to know. What if something happened to him?

"No! No, Kurt, they don't know. I mean…" Could he? Could he tell Kurt that Coop, his brother was _Captain Oreo_? Granted, he had been in danger the moment he accepted his new identity and the responsibilities that it entailed. He was a big boy, they could take care of themselves –they had to- but could he betray Cooper like that?

"Blaine?" he felt a warm, soft hand slipping into his and he looked up, meeting a pair of blue, concerned eyes.

Yes he could.

"Cooper knows. He's my…" he took a deep breath. "Well, he's my sidekick."

"Your… _sidekick_?" Kurt repeated.

"_Captain Oreo_," he said. His friend retrieved his hand, close to his chest. He looked so small and scared. "Please, Kurt, don't tell anyone, they can't—they can't know!" he pleaded, hastily reaching for Kurt's hand again, grasping it between his own. "They could hurt you too, my enemies…" His voice was shaky, the only thought of somebody hurting those who he loved was already defeating.

"But if it's so dangerous…" he pouted and dropped his gaze to his shoes. "Can something happen to you?" he raised his face barely, looking through his eyelashes at his dear friend.

"Of course something can happen to me, Kurt, but it's my duty," Blaine explained.

The only thing Kurt could do was nod. For some reason, he understood; his choices and all of his responsibilities. "But you have to promise something too," he added, tightening his lips.

"Anything," the smaller boy hurried, ready to sacrifice anything in the whole wide world.

"You promise you'll be careful and safe; and I'll promise to never say anything to anyone ever," Kurt said firmly, concern reflected in his big, glossy eyes, extending his pinky. Blaine's anxious, wide ones went from Kurt's finger to his solemn face. He felt his heart clench and soften lovingly at the same time. "We'll pinky promise and cross hearts and everything."

Blaine immediately intertwined his left pinky with Kurt's, both drawing crosses over their chests with their free hands at the same time, as they dutifully pledged in unison.

"We'll be just fine," the hazel eyed toddler confirmed with a glowing and fond smile on his face, his warmth wrapping Kurt and flooding the room, making him feel like safe and fine was all there was.

* * *

We're so sooooooooorry for not updating lately, life gets in the way and whenever we actually had time to write, we wouldn't feel inspired at all- So, here was a very long verse (with Kurt for the first time, _YAY!_) for you guys to have feels over all the Klaine. Anyways, this verse will have a short bonus that we'll upload later; and also some very cool and BRAND NEW, YEAH, characters are coming over in the next proper verses.

_Love, Ro and Brooklyn 3_

**PS.** Music to read this to: anything _FUN._, it helps us a lot during the writing process, the lyrics are awesome and the music is just so child-like and upbeat... see if it helps when reading too!


	7. Verse 6: Playtime - Mission Impossible

The other ones were already dissipating, all of them going in different directions. Secret Agent Anderson stood in the circular crossroads, surrounded by the steel walls, rotating on the spot. He knew Madmind hadn't gone that way, he just _knew_.

He pricked up his ears, straining for any sign of movement; the tiniest sound; a trace of human life.

He sensed a vibration coming from over his shoulder, turning around immediately and as silently as possible and caught a fleeting glimpse of a foot disappearing behind a wall.

He hurried to press himself against it, peeking around the corner. The coast was clear. A blindingly illuminated and pretty long path, extended ahead of him, thick fog spreading at the height of the ankles.

He studied the view, if Madmind was the evil genius he claimed to be, it wouldn't be easy to catch him. There had to be…

_Score_. He spotted what to others may have been a scratch on the wall, but to him, with his experience and sharp wit was a dangerous laser device that emitted deathly light at the slightest waver in the air.

It was also something Secret Agent Anderson could defeat in his sleep.

He suppressed the sly smile on his face; this _clearly_ wasn't over yet. He took a deep breath and got into position. Set, ready and… Go!

He knew the key wasn't in running, that way the lasers hit you anyway, only you didn't see them coming. He had to walk briskly and attentive. He was now approaching the first device, which was already warming up, ready to attack; what it didn't know was that the little boy was way ahead of him, already aware of its mechanism.

The agent kept on walking, eyes ahead and keeping his pace fast and precise, just as the laser was about to shoot. He slowed down, concentrating, as he put his hands on the floor, then placed the top of his head between them and rolled across the cold, stone ground. This was a piece of cake for him.

He continued to hurry down the path, zig-zagging at any given moment and doing one or two more somersaults. He was a few feet again from the end of the path, where two new halls continued in opposite directions.

But there was something odd about the steel panel ahead of him, it was almost like… a door.

A secret passage!

Surely, Madmind had gone that way.

However, out of the corner of his eye, he saw another red light shooting right at him, not giving him enough time to do other than leap high in the air.

The background music came to a dramatic halt as he jumped in the air, suspended and spinning in slow motion, his spine barely missing the laser. He could even feel the lethal heat brush his clothes.

He landed on the floor, ducked, his hands firm on the floor. He looked up, panting, detecting a sliver of the heavy mist, eerily creeping from under the door.

He stood up, ramrod straight, one foot in front of the other as he started walking again.

He tried to move the door to a side, but it was no use. It was something Madmind could've done as well, in a matter of seconds, just two minutes ago.

Preferably, perhaps, something not everyone could go through. The man's eyes scanned the walls, stopping on a spot on the door… several inches over his head.

It looked like a button and if it was, it probably opened the door. He _had_ to get to it.

He jumped as high as he could, bending his knees and stretching his arm.

His fingers grazed the noticeable relief on the wall, but he still couldn't reach it enough as to push it.

He tried again, this time feeling the edges a little clearer.

_Third time's a charm._

He extended his legs and even his toes as much as he could, feeling his vertebrae stretch as well, his fingers almost about to detach from his hand.

He landed back on the floor, expectantly still.

There was a loud sound, as though something was deflating really fast. The fog that was gliding over and all throughout the building's floor became more abundant, at the point where it was already a white smoke around his knees, not as dense, yet giving the impression of giant snakes on the watchout, about to tangle in between his legs if he made any wrong movements.

The panel slid –it looked curiously thinner than the rest of the real ones- and was concealed in a groove, right in the middle of the wall next to it.

He started walking again, facing a new path, that didn't look dangerous or very long. It was far less narrow than the one he had just survived, this one resembling more of an antechamber.

This time the door was visible and almost inviting, contrasting with the entire steel construction, being made of wood, heavy and dark. He squinted as he adventured towards it.

He placed a hand on the knob, gingerly turning it. It opened, slightly ajar; the room seemed to be empty.

He continued, pushing it open and stepping into it.

The walls were lined with rows of shelves, filled with books and clocks and funny devices and the floor was mostly covered by a large, circular rug. There was a fire crackling under a marble mantel. He couldn't help but notice the room was very inharmonious against the cold, bright corridors outside.

"At last, we meet again," said a voice, out of sight yet clearly knowing and satisfied, almost making him jump. "Secret Agent Anderson," it greeted and the chair in front of the desk in the middle of the room turned around suddenly.

"_Madmind!_" Blaine exclaimed, clenching his teeth and squinting.

"Bravo, Agent," he jeered as he gently caressed the hamster resting on his lap. "I never thought you'd be the one to find me first; we all know you are not so bright, don't we, Agent Anderson?" the boy said, crutching on the seat, emphasizing the last words with a pleased look, clutching onto the armrest with one hand. He started laughing maniacally, throwing his head back.

"We both know how this is going to end, Madmind," the spy pointed at him.

"Of course we do, because now you're dead!" He continued laughing, this time extending his hand towards the agent. He had been hiding a gun beneath his pet all the time.

"What? No!" Anderson exclaimed, covering his face with his hands while the evil mastermind shot. "Hunter, you can't kill me!" he stomped with his little feet on the soft mat colored floor.

"What do you mean I can't kill you, yes I can, and I just did!" he exclaimed, jumping on the children-sized bench.

"But I'm the good guy and you're the bad guy, so _you're_ supposed to die, not _me,_" Blaine was feeling insulted. In what sort of twisted alternative universe did bad guys win? It didn't make any sense.

"No, y_ou're_ supposed to die," he pointed at him accusingly. Blaine gasped.

"Hey!" He pointed back, opening his eyes like plates. "I say that," that was just what he needed, Hunter making fun of him after cheating on the game, _and_ stealing his catch phrase.

"You're dead, and that means I win," the other boy boasted, smiling widely.

"No, I'm not dead and period," the smaller boy stated. If they were going to play, they had to play right.

"This is so not fair, Blaine! You always do this!" He complained, crossing his arms, wobbling the small animal in one of his hands. "You know what? No!" he insisted. "No. I'm not dead, you're dead. Now you're no longer alive and I'm the king of the world!" Hunter threw his arms up in the air, and in the heat of the moment, the motion hauled the hamster, sending it all across the room.

It felt like slow-motion all over again, the squeaking pet flying across the room, and both children staring at it with eyes and mouths wide open. Once it hit the floor, the silence was mortifying.

"Uh-oh," Blaine cooed, pressing his index finger over his upper lip.

"Run, run for your life!" He jumped out of his seat, running straight out of the classroom. He knew that if any teacher caught them, they would be on detention for the rest of their lives. That was the second hamster he had killed since summer.

"Hunter, don't leave me here!" Blaine screamed desperately, following Hunter to wherever he was going.

"Agent Anderson, good thing you're here. We found out Agent Smythe was in fact a _DOUBLE AGENT ALL ALONG!_" a little girl with too-big-for-her clothes and hair walked up to Blaine as soon as he appeared on their main class room followed by Hunter, unaware that the game had already finished.

"It's no use, Robin, Blaine here spoiled all the fun," he taunted, hands on his hips. "He refused to die, so naturally, I killed him," he waved it away. "Again."

But Blaine wasn't minding the game no more, he was biting his lip with anxiousness filling his eyes. What if they had actually killed the hamster? It was a secret too big for someone as tiny as him to keep.

What if they called his parents and told them and he would be punished in his room or sent to jail?

What if his friends blamed him and he was left with no friends whatsoever?

What if he was disaccredited as a superhero?

"What? But... He can't die, Hunter," the girl frowned, confused. The boy's face dropped slightly. He opened his mouth again, before being drowned by Sebastian's hollering.

"I'll get my revenge, all of you!" he screamed, wrestling against Sam and Artie, who were holding him, keeping him from escaping. Robin laughed out loud, not even bothering to try and conceal it, to which Sebastian replied looking up with lighten up eyes and a pleased smile. Hunter squinted at him, "So much for double agent."

"Alright children," their teacher walked in the room with a sweet smile on her face. "It's time to practice our coloring." Robin couldn't help but whisper a proud _yes,_ since coloring wasn't only her favorite thing, but the thing she did best. "Sam, Artie, leave Sebastian and everyone get your notebooks."

Miss Bushnell didn't seem angry or suspicious to Blaine. He eyed Hunter, who was already guilt-less, reaching for his notebook from inside his backpack. Maybe the hamster wasn't dead after all.

He was safe… at least for now.

* * *

So, YAY, we updated two days in a row! _I call that progress_. Hope you enjoyed lovely little Hunter as much as we did while writing.

Not much, I guess... Um.. Bye!

Ro (_markssailingthecrisscolfersh ip_) & Brook (_iwasntinvited_) 3


	8. Verse 7: Cooper's Gel

If there was something Cooper loved –among many other things- was coming home right after school and having lunch watching one of his favorite shows, _Johnny Bravo_.

He would never tell anyone but he sort of aspired to be like him sometimes; the implacable charm, the flawless, shiny hair, the dashing smile. The extreme built body he could do without, it _was_ after all, just a cartoon. It wasn't like Cooper wanted to be like a cartoon. But still, he was a pretty good role model… except for all the times he was sort of a douche, which was something he didn't want to be.

So he would be the _Johnny_ minus the douchery.

Yeah, that would work.

On top of that, that day their teacher had released them a few minutes earlier, so he had even more time to prepare himself one good meal. _Jackpot._ He walked across the living room, leaving his backpack on the floor next to the couch and headed towards the refrigerator. He was meddling through the piles of food and stacks of condiments when he heard it.

A familiar laughter rang in his ears. It was kind of a frantic, nervous giggle and with a sigh, he wondered what on Earth his little brother was up to this time.

Blaine probably didn't know he was home at this hour of the day, so he crept silently up the stairs, feeling already the thrill in his stomach. To be honest, every day with his brother was a fun one.

He heard another giggle from the bathroom and then a soft thud and a gasp. Cooper's exaggerated tip-toeing position slumped, suddenly worried. What if that had been Blaine falling?

There was silence for only a second in which he was frozen before he heard a simple "Oh."

An _oh_ he knew rather well.

"Gotcha!" he yelled, opening the door with a rapid, sudden movement and a big smile, all of which fell instantaneously as soon as he took the picture in. "Oh my God, Blaine, what the _fuck_?"

The kid was standing on top of a stool in front of the mirror, eyes wide, staring right at his brother, hair sticking out in the weirdest formations. All over the sink were splurges of a certain translucent, with a red tint, jelly-like substance and on the white tiled floor a big, heavy bottle was rolling, more of the same stuff spluttered across a big part of it. And then he realized what it was.

He felt his world spin and he had to press himself against the wall behind him, holding onto the threshold.

"Blaine, is that… my _Cover Boy_ _gel_?" he asked, melodramatically, hand firmly on his chest. He looked up to see the boy who was offering a hesitant smile, asking for permission to laugh. Cooper's face only grew sterner. "Do you think this is funny?" he gestured with his hands and Blaine's ghost of a smile vanished as he shook his head. "This is not funny, Blaine! _Johnny Bravo_ is funny. _This_ is everything _but_ funny, Blaine!" His brother raised his eyebrows, thrown off for a second at the mention of the cartoon, but he stood there still. "You have got to stop touching my products, Blaine. This is completely unacceptable, what would Captain Oreo think? I don't think he'd like it, since he feels as strongly about products as I do," he started enumerating solemnly. "Would have Nightbird dropped the gel bottle? I don't think so. And what would the citizens of Chicken Nugget Valley think if they heard about this? Not to think of mom, she's gonna kill—Oh, who am I kidding? I can't talk to you seriously with _that_ on your head," he said, gesturing to the three high peaks of hair, all looking like pointy swords in ridiculous angles. "Take that off and we'll talk," he sighed, resigned. "Because this can't go by un… unsaid, unspoken. Unscolded," he tried, squinting at the ceiling. "Unad—Ugh, _unsomething_! Okay, Blaine?" he spelled. The little boy nodded at the speed of light several times, staring up with huge eyes at his brother. "Good," he turned to leave the small, shared bathroom.

"Coop…" his brother called timidly.

"Yes?" he asked, trying to maintain the seriousness of the situation, rotating on his heels to look at him.

"You just said the _f word_," he lowered his scandalized, tolerant voice. "In front of _me_," he went on, stressing, as though Cooper hadn't realized why that was wrong.

He stared at him for a few moments, expression blank.

"I won't tell mom if you don't," he pointed at him finally lowering his head and looking at him through his eyelashes.

Blaine's eyes were still incredulous and lost. They darted to his right and blinked back at Cooper. He nodded slowly with parted lips.

"Cooper?" Blaine spoke again, still small.

"_Yeees?_" he turned once more, seeing his baby brother fiddle nervously with his hands.

"I'm sorry about using your beauty hair stuff—"

"Products," he corrected, closing his eyes, summoning patience.

"—I promise I won't touch them again. I just wanted to look like you," he said.

Cooper's heart melted instantaneously.

"Well, that changes everything," he swoop down to lift Blaine and take him in his arms, his short legs tangling and his little arm around Coop's neck, a smile grazing his face. "If you wanted to look like me, all you had to do was ask, little bro," he shook his head at him with a smile, as he walked into the small bathroom.

"Coop, I want to look like you," he asked, lifting his chin and looking at his brother

"There you go," he smiled back, bouncing him in his arms. He stepped over the mess on the floor and put Blaine down. "Now, Blaine; _this_ is called _gel_, okay?" he began explaining, showing him the bottle that he picked from the floor. "Cover Boy Gel, more specifically, and it's more precious than Christmas itself," Blaine nodded quickly, face denoting the level of deep attention. "It basically keeps your hair in place. It's for you to look like this," he ran a hand over his perfectly styled wavy and bright hair while nodding. "And not like this," he shook his head, pointing at his brother's exaggerated, weird sort of Mohawk. Blaine's eyes followed his hand, lips still parted in concentration. He nodded again, shutting his mouth and beaming. "Great, now I'll teach you how to be me, c'mere," he lifted him again and placed him on the stool that was still there, standing behind him. "Next time, you apply less… much less than what you used and you just gently sweep it and then slightly mold it with your hand, okay?" he said. "I'll teach you better after we wash that _abomination_ off your hair, so let's just… wash that off," he scrunched his nose up in disgust, putting Blaine down on the floor again. He opened the hot water tap and grabbed the shampoo bottle.

"Now, while the tub gets ready for your beauty bath, I'm going to talk to you about something very important, Blaine, okay?" he asked, bobbing his head up and down. The boy looked up at him, all ears and all eyes. "Good. Do you know who Johnny Bravo is?"

* * *

We're so, so, so sorry we haven't been uploading recently! It's just that our inspiration for TCON seemed to vanish into thin air and we really got into another *coughkickasscough* fanfiction we're writing and kind of left this baby of ours behind. But now we're back! Hope you enjoy!


	9. Verse 8: Target Attack

"...and Mike and Jake want to come, too, so I told them they could, but only if they didn't bring their girlfriends, cause I swear, Tiffany is _sooo_ annoying and—"

"Now, Cooper, that's not nice of you, I mean, if Jake likes her, then maybe you should—"

"No! No! No!" the little boy yelling interrupted Mom's and Cooper's conversation in a particularly high-pitched voice as he threw the bags of frozen vegetables out of the shopping cart. "It's raining eggs!" he sang, grabbing the box full of eggs, ready to drop them from his lifted arm.

"Blaine, sweetie, stop that already," Mom pledged forcing patience, hurrying to take the box from his youngest son's hand. She took him in her arms and took him away from the cart. She picked up the bags from the floor and sighed exhaustedly. "Cooper, please take your brother see the toys while I finish?"

Coop held his hand out to his brother's small hand and started walking away in the opposite direction, not sure in what aisle the toys were in a store where they constantly changed the location of their products.

Blaine was happy to leave the cart; a walk down the supermarket was always a very pleasant and enjoyablestroll and, honestly, he could use a break from all the evil-defeating.

"Look buddy, I still don't get why you hate vegetables so much. You should eat them more often 'cause I tell ya," he chuckled. "If you keep on eating so much candy you'll proba-"

Cooper froze and Blaine was pulled back by the sudden impulse.

"They... They hav—Oh my God," he walked slowly towards the shelves where, amidst all of his beloved products, there it was... "It's back," he choked, eyes wide and eyebrows wiggling. "Cover Boy Gel," he whimpered, taking the bottle of hair gel as though it was made of pure gold, begging him to be grabbed.

Blaine looked up at his amazed brother from a few steps behind, not really paying much attention. His eyes started to wander around the ceilings and walls and stacks of products, when something that had an odd aura caught his eye. He knew something was just not right.

A certain terrible image was at plain sight in the following corner. He ran towards it as close as he could, still staying at a prudent distance from it, and hid behind a shelf with a loud gasp. It seemed like it was an army of some sort since there were soldiers _everywhere._

Blaine immediately knew that it was a job for Nightbird.

He went back a few aisles and held onto a blue towel, pulling it firmly from it to bring it down. Since he hadn't thought of bringing his costume; that would have to do. (Maybe he should start wearing it beneath all of his clothes like Superman, he realized)

Blaine tied the corners of the towel around his neck and hid behind it as he went back to what seemed like Doctor Soy Burger's headquarters. If he wanted to save all the innocent civilians there, he'd have to do this swiftly. However, he still needed a weapon. He spin in his place, scanning the place to find something he could use and—

"Yeah…" he nodded repeatedly and slowly with a triumphant smirk on his face.

He had little time, he was aware. He approached the corner into the danger zone, breathed deeply and repeated the plan inside his head one last time. He peeked again, this could only work if it was done properly. It was time.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" his war cry echoed in the whole place as he covered all the vegetables in the counter with chocolate fudge. These things weren't like Bob. They were manipulative and heartless. The only way to beat them was to drown them in an immeasurable amount of sugar and hope for the best. "Run! Run for your lives!" he exclaimed at the people surrounding him who were staring at him in complete shock. Probably amazed of his bravery, he was almost sure. It looked like they were prisoners, judging by the quantity of repulsive vegetables that they were grabbing with their bare hands… or at least that was what they thought. It was obvious the vegetables were forcing them to take them so they could land safely in their homes and attack at dinner time.

He was just about to get to the fruit section when he felt his feet lift from the ground. "Whaa…" the boy was confused, and turned his head to find a man in an all-red uniform holding him in the air.

* * *

Mom was trying to find the correct brand of bleach when something the voice from the speakers said caught her attention. Something about a _boy waiting for his parents somewhere_; and also something about _urgency_. Poor boy, she could only imagine how scared the little boy must've been, turning to his mother and finding her gone, probably just into the next aisle.

"_Momomomomomompleasebuymethis_," Cooper came running and begging and holding a bottle of that unnecessarily expensive hair gel between his hands. _And completely Blaine-less_.

"Cooper, where is your brother?" She asked in response, already knowing the answer and fear bubbling inside of her.

The boy's eyes opened wide like plates. "Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh..."

"Coope-" Mom's beginning of a reprimand was interrupted by the male voice from the speakers.

"_Dear customers, there is an unattended young boy waiting for his parents or tutors in the__store management office. Please come pick him up urgently,_" the man spelled the last word carefully, and Mom was sure she heard some unsettlingly _familiar_ yelling in the back.

Seconds after the message finished, staring at the speaker, she lowered her glower at him, nostrils flaring.

Cooper was looking at her, eyes wide. He giggled nervously and after carefully placing the bottle in the cart, ran away towards the entrance of the grocery store as he heard his mother yell something at him that he didn't quite understand. It was probably a scold, anyways. And if she was telling him something about no Cover Boy Gel, then he really didn't want to hear it. He was having a really rough day as it was.

"LET GO OF NIGHTBIRD!" the four-year-old screamed as he shook violently in the grip of an exhausted –clearly running out of patience- employee. "I'M TRYING TO SAVE YOU ALL! YOU'RE DOOMED WITHOUT ME!"

"For Christ's sakes, kid, what is wrong with you?" Cooper asked to himself as he reached the counter.

"Cooper! You must help me, there is a whole _legion_ of vegetables about to attack, they're under the control of Dr. Soy Burger! Call Captain Oreo _immediately_!"

"Ummm… I'll just," Cooper extended his arms to the hateful employee holding Blaine to take him himself and hold him tightly. He undid with difficulty the knot in Blaine's neck as he kept on talking. "We'll just go away quietly, I promise this won't happen again, ever," he threw the towel against the counter and basically shouted the last words as he walked fast in direction to the main doors, and right before crossing them, he gestured car movements to his mom inside, trying to tell her that they'd be waiting for her, completely ignoring her fierce and persistent glare and running a hand dramatically through his hair, insisting on his need for the Cover Boy Hair Gel.

"Captain, what are you doing?!" Blaine couldn't understand what was going on, he tried to stop them by pressing his heels into the concrete floor of the parking lot. Didn't he want to save those people too?

"Great, now we will never be able to shop in this store _ever_ again… and mom's gonna kill me," he realized, ignoring his younger brother. "Mom's gonna kill me slowly and painfully, enjoying the torture. Thanks, kid," Cooper sighed and tensed his jaw, just catching a small glimpse of what his life would become.

The older boy got to the car and sat Blaine on the hood since they didn't have the keys to get in.

Cooper started walking around in circles, thinking of a not-so-stupid excuse so he wouldn't get in trouble and muttering stuff to himself. After a few minutes, he looked up and found his little brother playing with his hands and looking down where he had left him. "Blainers…"

Blaine looked at him through his amazingly long eyelashes and Coop's heart broke in half.

"Look, kiddo. You shouldn't have done that," he started, sitting next to him and running a comforting hand up and down his brother's small back. "I know its fun and I _bet_ those vegetables deserved it. But something bad could have happened to you while you were alone… Maybe we should keep our superhero and astoundingly good looking sidekick in the house… whatcha think? Or more of a secret, you know? A little more _low profile_," he emphasized.

"But…" Blaine complained, but he couldn't find a reason to. He nodded defeated and swung his tiny feet. "Okay…"

"I know it's sad," Cooper shrugged and pouted a bit. "But mom is taking some of those ugly vegetables home and someone has to bring them down. Do you think that is a mission for Nightbird?"

Blaine had looked up at him gleaming with a smile and expectant eyes. He brought his feet up and stood on the car. "And for Captain Oreo too!"

"Cool," he fist-bumped his brother and saw the excitement in him drain completely. He turned around to see his mom carrying too many bags and with a –more like so-not-happy- look on her face. Oh, boy, was he in trouble.


	10. Verse 9: The Lost Boy

**A/N**: This one goes in honor of Cory Monteith, we are both deeply sorry for the terrible loss and thought it was proper to have little Finn Hudson make a special appearance in this specific story. It's different and special from what we have written before, but we both really like it and hope you do too.

* * *

It was such a nice day. So nice it would have been a crime to spend it inside… The sun was shining bright, a soft cool breeze running between the trees. Cooper had gone to a friend's house the past night, and he wouldn't be back until much later, so little Blaine decided to ask Mom for permission to play in the front yard. Five minutes later he was carrying an excessive amount of toys with him down the stairs and out the front door.

The boy let go of everything he was holding, dropping them on the floor to then look at it and smile as he rubbed his palms together. It was until then that he heard a weak sort of sobbing near. He frowned deeply and looked around, puzzled expression all over his young face. Who could be crying?

It was a little boy; he looked just about the same age as Blaine. He was sitting on the curve, his face hidden against his legs, wearing a quilted vest that seemed to be a little too big for his small body. He was crying, and alone.

Blaine looked around him, searching for his Mom or Cooper, since they were the ones who usually made him feel better, but neither was in sight. He pouted as he racked his mind, thinking of a way to help the little boy. His eyes softly lit up as he thought... perhaps he could help this kid. It wasn't just like that that you got a hero credential; you had to earn the right!

He simply had to take matters into his own hands. He wouldn't let anyone be upset when he was around, he decided as he stomped his little foot on the grass, giving his thoughts intention. He jumped over the toys that blocked his path to sit next to this unknown boy, but as soon as he was a few inches away from him, he felt small again. He doubted on the spot for a beat or two until he timidly spoke. "Why are you crying?" he asked and the kid jumped slightly back and looked straight at Blaine. He hadn't heard anyone coming and he was probably scared now. "_Good job, Nightbird,_" Blaine thought to himself.

The boy wiped some of his tears away with the back of his sleeves and sniffed before talking.

"I'm lost," he confessed, tears still running down his red cheeks. "I went for a walk and I lost my way," he repeated, bursting into more tears unintentionally.

Blaine frowned. That was his house and his house was pretty and homey, and it was supposed to make feel everyone at home. At least that was what Blaine's mom said, about his and Cooper's friends. Blaine's clever, little mind saw the solution right away. This kid had to be his friend and he wouldn't be lost anymore, he would be home as well. He put a smile on his face and stretched his hand out, just like he saw Daddy do whenever he met someone new.

"I'm Blaine," he smiled widely. "I am four years old and I go to Sunnyside Kindergarten. I have a brother named Cooper and I like candy," he introduced himself with pride. He had managed to make the boy stop jerking with spastic and ugly sobs. "Who are you?" he asked, sitting down next to him.

"My name is Finn, and I'm five," he answered back, sniffing again and still not able to smile. "And I go to Sunnyside too," he nodded once, a little confused that he had never seen Blaine before. Then again, they were both a little short and they probably would never see each other among the other tall kids. His height always pestered him.

"That's great!" Blaine smiled even further, his small, bright eyes crinkling up and cheeks inflating. "Wanna be my friend?" he asked.

Finn blinked and looked at him, confused. "But I don't know you…" the other child responded after a moment.

Blaine's excitement perished only a little bit and for a second or two. "Wanna come inside for cookies?" he offered with renewed enthusiasm. "Maybe I could give you some of my _Oreos_," he felt proud of sharing _his Oreos_ with this kid he barely knew.

For a moment, Finn's jaw dropped open and his eyes widened, sparkling. However, he returned to his more serious and now disappointed ambiance and lowered his voice as he mumbled, slumping his shoulders. "Mom won't let me talk to strangers. Or go to a stranger's house. I don't think even cookies would make her say yes," he laughed a little bit, slightly calmer that at least he was _somewhere_ and not _nowhere._

"I see," Blaine sighed, as he hugged his legs and rested the side of his head on his knees. "So... What do you like, Finn?" he continued with another smile.

"I don't know," he shrugged and looked down. He looked unsure of what to tell Blaine he liked. Probably football, but he didn't really know yet because he would often be too tired to play and liking something meant that you would always do it, without any doubt and it shouldn't matter how tired you were.

Blaine pursed his lips, hating to see his new friend so conflicted and lost and stared at him for a few seconds. "Are you good at something? I'm good at climbing stuff, I do it all the time around my house," he smiled again, remembering how fun it was and how he never fell –or... almost never. He was also very good at fighting crime, but that was for him, Cooper and Kurt to know.

Finn looked serious for a moment, as if he was giving the question a lot of thought. What was he really _really_ good at?

"My mom's boyfriend, Darren, always tells me that I have a good voice… that I sing nice. Perhaps I'm good at that," by the time he said that, he had completely stopped crying and all traces of sadness were gone with the new smile shining on his face.

"That is awesome!" The curly-haired child opened his eyes as much as he could and opened his arms. "I like singing too! Want to sing something?" He asked, hope and excitement filling him.

Finn smiled too and nodded. "Do you know the song _Don't Stop Believing_?"

Blaine thought and half closed his eyes, trying to remember it from somewhere but there was absolutely no record of that title in his head. "No, I don't… Wanna sing it to me?" he asked back, hoping it would make him feel better. Finn was a really cool and nice kid, Blaine realized.

Not a second passed before words bursted from Finn's eager mouth so suddenly that it made Blaine jump in his place, the melody splattering like colorful, bright paint from someplace deeper. Finn had his eyes closed and as he sang the lyrics, reaching every note with precision and a distantly high and rough voice, there was such peace and contentment in his face that it even calmed Blaine down, making him forget why this boy was crying before and how he had feared not being able to help him.

It was soothing and there was so much happiness and satisfaction in the air that as Finn sang, it was clear he was feeling better already.

The dirty blonde boy was too young to understand all of what the song truly meant, but he knew that it filled his body with bravery and trust. A broad smile appeared on his face as he sang, eyes open and lost somewhere else ahead. Why had he stopped believing in himself in the first place? Why had he given up and sat to cry? He could do it. He _could_ find his way, he reassured himself, reaching the last few verses of the song.

"_Don't stop!_"

Blaine was amazed. That song was _so_ pretty and _so_ cool. He never wanted it to end. He found he really liked to hear Finn sing. He started clapping very fast and loud, a small giggle coming out. Finn wouldn't stop smiling and looked down, slightly shy, a soft shade of pink taking over his plump cheeks. Once Blaine's palms started to hurt from so much clapping, he sighed and dropped his hands to the concrete on his sides.

"That was amazing! Are you sure you don't want to stay with me and play with my toys until your mommy comes to get you?" Blaine asked, pointing at all the toys lying in the middle of the front yard.

Finn stood up and shook his head, the soft smile still all over his face. "Next time… I promise." he looked down at Blaine and put his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. "I should go back now. I can't be that far away from home… after all I didn't walk much at all."

"Want me to ask my mommy to walk you home?"

"No, I'll be alright," he said with the light grin still on his face. There was a kind and adventurous mischief to his whole persona that just seemed to outshine his little body. He looked too big and nice and good for someone so small. Perhaps with time, his body would mould to his greatness.

"You sure?" Blaine asked, head tilting to the side. He would be more than happy to have him as company for a little more time.

"Yeah…" Finn nodded again. He looked down the street where he had come from and sighed. "Yeah, I'll find my way back."

Blaine beamed to then stand up and be face to face with him. "Goodbye," he told the other boy and took his hands behind his back. "See you around?" after all, they both went to the same kindergarten and he was probably Kurt's classmate.

"Sure," he smiled and walked past Blaine. "Goodbye" he called back and started walking down the road.

"Good luck!" The honey-eyed one yelled from where he was standing, looking after him until was out of sight. He was happy to have Finn as a friend now.


End file.
